


lies, secrets, and sacrifices

by didthattwinkjustcommittreason



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arthur Finds Out About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Soft Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), gaius is suspicious, he is also a snitch, merlin has no sense of self preservation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/didthattwinkjustcommittreason/pseuds/didthattwinkjustcommittreason
Summary: Merlin has found a spell to make Morgana powerless and protect Camelot in one fell swoop. It costs a hefty price, but there’s almost nothing Merlin wouldn’t do for Camelot. And there isnothinghe wouldn’t do for his king.
Relationships: Gaius & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 357





	1. lies

**Author's Note:**

> yeah um i'm supposed to be working on the other one but this just wrote itself, i couldn't stop it, so figured i'd put it out there

Saying goodbye meant giving himself away, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave without any explanation. Maybe one day, Gaius could explain it all to Arthur, and the king could forgive him, and forgive magic, and finally lead Albion into the light.

When he hugged the physician just a little too tight, and he felt the old man stiffen, he knew he’d fucked up, because Gaius pulled away and looked at him sternly. “Where exactly are you going, Merlin?”

He rubbed his mentor’s weathered hands in a comforting, familiar motion. “I told you, this spell I found could finally bring the peace we need. It - it could solve everything.”

The harrowing look in all of the knights eyes, trudging in after another long day. Gaius’s schooled expression as he tended to wounds and administered sleeping draughts to the many plagued with nightmares. The people of the lower town, cowering in their homes and looking with hope upon the king and his shining, if battered, knights. Arthur’s tired, despairing motions, a desperate hand raking through his hair, the age old pain of knowing it was  _ Morgana _ they were facing, his  _ sister _ , their  _ friend _ who had fought Uther daily for what was right.

Gaius’s signature brow fixed him with skepticism. “Sounds like an awfully convenient, all-powerful spell.”

Merlin forced a smile. “They say I’m the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth, Gaius. I think I can handle it.”

He darted in for another hug without thinking, surely raising Gaius’s suspicion through the roof. “Merlin,” he said into the boy’s hair. “Promise me you’ll be careful.” His tone was almost accusatory.

“I’ll be fine,” Merlin lied through his teeth, not for the first time, but never so severely.

He wrapped the cloak around himself and refused to look back as he descended from the physician’s tower, slipped past the guards in the courtyard, and headed into the forest.

The darkness of the woods was unforgiving, and Merlin scolded himself for projecting his moodiness on the trees. He had always felt connected to the earth, to all of nature, but he kept seeing twisted faces in the bark, as if the forest were judging him for what he had to do. A whistling wind pushed against him, as if urging him back, and it only cemented his resolve. He was  _ not _ going to read into the natural occurrences as signs, he was  _ not _ going to have doubts. All of his prayers had been answered, at long last a solution, and really, for all that it offered - the Golden Age of Albion under the rule of his Once and Future King - it didn’t cost so much.

The warlock wandered a bit, closing his eyes (despite the dark making it rather unnecessary) as he felt around with his magic, searching for the strongest place in the woods where he could feel connected to the roots and the earth and the elements. Despite his cocky comment to Gaius, he would need all the help he could get to pull it off so that he wasn’t drained before he finished. 

Mud sucked at his feet as he drew his cloak closer around him, drawing deeper and deeper into the forest. His movements were slow as he crept about in the dark; he could have illuminated his trek but he felt like it would disturb the solemn evening and couldn’t bring himself to use the spell. Furthermore, this way no one could bother him, no creatures, no bandits, no other people or beings, malignant or otherwise, to get in the way of his final act. He resolutely ignored the sounds he heard, dismissing them for wildlife or even passing travelers. It was not unheard of to travel at night, particularly for unsavory persons, and currently, that was none of Merlin’s business.

Until, that was, he heard something crashing through the forest like its tail was lit on fire.

Freezing with his hand braced on a tree trunk, Merlin surveyed his surroundings (fruitlessly, he was still in the dark for the Triple Goddess’s sake) and tried to determine what direction the sound was coming from. It was so like the universe to send something to try and kill him when he was trying to do something Of Utmost Importance.

It would be easiest if he kept to the shadows and avoided the encounter altogether. He could feel the spot pulsating with magic not far from here, and he started to edge through the trees towards the clearing. But as the crunching twigs and mud sucking and whipping branches sounded nearer, he thought how horrible it’d be if he got halfway through the spell only to be knocked unconscious or killed for no reason, and Camelot was left to suffer for it. Perhaps he should face the threat now and be done with it.

He removed himself from the trees and stepped onto the path; now he could tell it was a horse. Someone was riding his way full speed - perhaps it had been unwise to put himself in the way. Before he could decide whether or not it’d be wiser to return to the trees, a stallion was suddenly barreling towards him and should have knocked him over by all accounts, except the rider was skilled enough to pull to a stop in front of him.

Swallowing, Merlin looked up to find he was mistaken. This was not a stallion, but a mare. Llamrei.

“Merlin,” gasped the rider as he slung off the mare.

The warlock cursed. Since when was Gaius a snitch?

Arthur was heaving as he looked Merlin up and down, taking in his cloak and muddy boots. The king was wearing his only dark cloak - the blue one Merlin had given him, in fact - as if to suit the mood. “Gaius seems to think you’re on some sort of suicide mission,” he panted. “Something about Morgana. Is she here?”

“No,” Merlin said flatly, as he tried to configure a scheme that resulted in Arthur going home.

“Then what are you doing out here?”Arthur said incredulously, waving at the woods around them.

Merlin glanced up as the moon finally unveiled itself from the clouds, as if warning him. Things would be a lot easier if he started this soon. “Gaius was wrong,” he said, turning away. “You’ve nothing to worry about. You got out of bed for nothing. Go home, Arthur.”

“Okay,” Arthur huffed. “Then you come home, too.”

Something about that twisted the warlock’s heart into pitiful little knots.

“I’ll be back in time to serve you breakfast,” he lied, because what else could he do? “You’ll be a bear tomorrow. Hurry up, I won’t be far behind you.”

Arthur’s hand set down hard on his shoulder. “Merlin. What are you doing here,” he repeated.

He hardly doubted any of the usual excuses would slide at this time of night. He shouldered away Arthur’s hand. “Do you trust me?”

The silence stretched out between them. It was quiet enough to count their breaths. Llamrei was silent and the woods were so quiet it almost seemed hallowed. Perhaps it was, if they were so close to the spot Merlin had sought out.

“That’s not fair, Merlin,” Arthur said at last. “Come on. We’re going back.”

“If you trusted me, you would let me do what I need to,” he snapped, voice rising. “I’m not-”

Arthur latched onto his arm, voice level rivaling Merlin’s. “I’ve never seen Gaius so frightened, Merlin!” He shook him, grip firm. “He came to my chambers in the middle of the night, begging me to go after you. He thought you were going to die.” Arthur was glaring at him, but there was something else beneath the anger in his gaze. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Let go of me,” Merlin said quietly.

“Merlin-”

“Arthur,” Merlin closed his eyes. “I said, let go.”

“If I have to tie you to my horse, I will!” Arthur grabbed his other arm and started to drag his manservant over to Llamrei.

It needed to be done tonight. He had to do it. He had to.

Arthur was suddenly pushed back from Merlin by a powerful, indiscernible force, surprising him enough that he let go. He stared in shock for a moment at his manservant, bewildered. “Merlin?”

At last, the warlock looked up at him tearfully, raising a hand to reveal sparks of magic dancing among his fingers. Arthur’s eyes darted from his hand to face and back again before settling on his friend’s face. Merlin knew this was the best way to get him to go, but he looked away, unable to see the betrayal in his king’s eyes after all this time. Which was sort of unnecessary, since he couldn’t see past any of his tears anyways.

“I have magic, Arthur,” he said, because he had to say it out loud. “I always have. I’ve been lying to you.”

After another beat of absolute silence, he started down the path again, hastily striding to the clearing and somehow managing not to trip over anything despite his momentary blindness.

He jumped when hands grabbed onto him again. “We can talk about this back at the castle,” Arthur said stubbornly.

Merlin blinked back his tears and pretended like his throat wasn’t closing up. He’d assumed the king would get upset and leave with Llamrei. Why did his other half have to make everything in the warlock’s life harder?

He brushed him off with magic again.

“Tell me what you’re doing here!” Arthur demanded.

“Saving your arse, as usual,” Merlin grumbled in half amusement. With this, his tone softened at last. “I’ve found a spell,” he said tenderly, and he could tell from Arthur’s expression that he was probably looking at the king in a way he shouldn’t be. “It will take away Morgana’s powers. She’ll have no magic, no prophetic dreams. She can finally find peace,” he went on. “And it should cast a shield over Camelot. The knights, Gwen, Gaius, you - you’ll all be safe.” His voice was barely an audible whisper when he ended.

“What aren’t you telling me, Merlin?” Arthur said, trying to sound angry, though Merlin could hear the desperation clawing into his voice.

The warlock turned away.

“It’ll kill you,” the king said, realizing. “Merlin!”

He halted Arthur’s advance with a hand motion so gentle it was almost apologetic.

“Stop! Merlin!”

The spot was mere stride lengths away. It would not be ideal to have to spare some of his focus to restrain Arthur, and he had certainly not intended for his king to  _ watch _ , but he’d promised himself he would do whatever it took to save everyone he loved.

“Merlin,” Arthur said darkly. “As  _ your king _ , I order you to stop. I forbid it.”

He glanced back sadly. “As the worst manservant in the five kingdoms, I’m ignoring you one last time.”   


Arthur raged at him, and the warlock did his best to push the yelling out of his head as he remembered the words of the spell. He stepped into the spot and immediately his mind cleared, powers heightening. At that moment, he knew he could do it. He could perform the spell and fulfill his destiny, even if it wasn’t quite what he’d originally imagined.

Once he said the right words, he would feel the connections of the earth lead him to Morgana. With the help of this spot and the full moon, he’d be able to execute it from a distance. His life would be drained away as he poured everything he had into the feat.

But before he could start chanting, Arthur’s voice managed to infiltrate through his concentration.

“Merlin,” he said, voice breaking, and it cut through the warlock clean to the bone to hear. “I need you. I - I can’t do this alone, alright? I need you by my side.”

The warlock was at the peak of his power. He could feel all his magic thrumming at his fingertips, ready to do his bidding. But at the words of his king, everything inside him broke into tiny little pieces.

He released his grip on Arthur and stumbled away from the place feeding him power. It was too much. He succumbed to a sob.

Arthur was there in moments, hands on his shoulders, turning him so that they were facing each other, even as Merlin refused to look at him. “I have to do this. You have to let me do this, Arthur. It’s my destiny. There’s no other way.”

“There’s always another way, Merlin,” the king said gently, pressing their foreheads together. Then, more resolutely, “We’ll find another way.”

Merlin was crying too hard to reply, and Arthur took the opportunity to shoulder one of his manservant’s arms, half-hauling him to Llamrei. “It’ll be okay Merlin,” he said, even as the warlock was fervently shaking his head. “We’re going home.”   



	2. secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur finally gets some answers from his bumpkin of a manservant (his best friend).

The journey back was silent, except for Merlin’s sniffles. He was still quite upset over the whole ordeal. Arthur was too, of course, but rather than think about the maddening idea that his manservant had magic, or worse, that said manservant had got it in his head that he was going to  _ sacrifice himself _ like an absolute idiot, he resolved to focus on the familiar trot of Llamrei below him.

Unfortunately, his thoughts kept swirling to what had to happen when they returned. Obviously, they had to talk about Merlin’s magic. He was sore that Merlin had kept it from him all this time, but clearly Merlin was distressed by this as well, and he knew that his friend had the best intentions. Still, all he could think about right now was dissolving into yelling:

YOU ABSOLUTE BUMPKIN! YOU COMPLETE DOLLOPHEAD! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!

What  _ had _ Merlin been thinking? Honestly, he’d proven time and time again that he’d give his life for Arthur (and hopefully, Arthur’d proven it back to him) but going  _ out of his way _ to offer his life up in some crazy magnanimous feat of magic was a bit much.

When they reached the courtyard, Arthur realized he’d slowed down in his dread and urged Llamrei into a faster pace for the last few leagues to the stables. He handed her off to the poor sleepy stable boy with only a slight bit of guilt (feeling mostly justified) and returned to where Merlin had gotten off, waiting for him.

They walked side by side down the halls, Merlin’s head down like a scolded child, Arthur brooding with unspoken fury. When Merlin tried to dip off down the hall towards the physician’s tower, Arthur grabbed hold of his arm. “Just where do you think you’re going?” he said incredulously. “I can’t just trust you to go off.”

Merlin looked at him with open hurt and he realized at once what a terrible thing that was to say to someone who’d just revealed his magic to him. “How do I know you’re not going to head right back to the woods and try again?” he clarified, exasperated. “Honestly, Merlin, you have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. I’m keeping my eye on you.”

He tugged him down the hall to his chambers, met with mild protest. “But Gaius-”

“I’ll send someone,” Arthur said gruffly but not unkindly. “We have a lot to talk about.”

That shut him up. He followed sullenly, hands fidgeting. Arthur spoke with one of the guards by his door about alerting Gaius that his protégé (son) had returned safely and then they both entered his chambers. An immense relief settled upon Arthur, regardless of the discussion ahead. When Gaius had come to tell him about Merlin’s questionable mission, he’d never felt such raw panic. He’d been running on pure adrenaline until he found his friend and calmed him down, and over the course of the ride home it’d started to drain away. Now it had finally fizzled out. He felt exhausted.

He headed towards the table and picked up a pitcher of wine, pouring them each a cup and motioning for his manservant to sit down. It wasn’t like Merlin could do it; his hands were still trembling frightfully.

After he himself sat, Arthur took a long gulp, but once he saw that Merlin wasn’t touching his, he set the cup aside. What if Merlin was waiting for him to get drunk, so that he could leave for the woods again?

He fixed him with a harder look than he meant to, and the manservant squirmed under his gaze. “I’m guessing you’d like me to explain some things,” Merlin murmured.

“Rather,” Arthur said sarcastically. “How long has - ” he waved a hand, “this - been going on?”

He listened as Merlin explained he was born with magic. He had to prod him to reveal how many times he’d saved his life, which Merlin let slip that he couldn’t even remember all the times at this point -  _ What?! Merlin, saving his life so often he couldn’t remember - _ let alone the times he’d saved Camelot.

He’d rushed in to admit he’d done things he wasn’t proud of, burning with shame as he recalled them: healing Gwen’s father, only to cause everyone grief and get him killed. Not telling Morgana about his magic and poisoning her to save everyone else. Letting the dragon free.

Arthur wasn’t keen to hear some of these secrets, but it proved hard to be mad when Merlin started weeping over them, so he pushed him past the guilt-ridden admissions to something else. 

“You said - before when you -” Arthur cleared his throat and ploughed on, “You mentioned destiny. Back in the woods. And you said being born with magic was part of your destiny. What’s all that supposed to mean?”

Merlin was mopping his eyes with his sleeve. “Kilgharrah likes to tell me about my destiny all the time,” he said. “All this stuff about how we’re two sides of the same coin. I’m supposed to help you unite Albion and bring magic back, for a golden age of peace.” He paused to sniffle a bit. “He makes it sound like - well - and I always thought -”

“What?”

“Well, I think I’m supposed to be with you when it happens. By your side.” Merlin’s eyes darted up to meet his then quickly away. “But I don’t know. Nothing’s clear with him, anyways, and I thought that this was my chance to fix things. You’re the Once and Future King, Arthur,” he said, looking at him again. “Your rule will change everything. My job is to help you get there. No matter the cost.” His gaze dropped once more. “And now I’ve fucked it up completely,” he said miserably.

“You  _ almost _ fucked it up,” Arthur snapped, too much fondness in his voice for his liking. “You almost threw your life away-”

“Threw my life away?” Merlin said incredulously, voice raw. “I had a  _ purpose _ , I wasn’t going to perform the spell for the hell of it-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” grumbled Arthur. “That’s off the table. Got it?”

Merlin fell silent, sulky. Arthur was quiet, too, absorbed in his thoughts. It was a lot to take in. He felt like he had aged several decades just listening to Merlin speak.

His mind kept drawing back to the last bit they’d talked about. Destiny. Was that the reason Merlin had been so insistent to be by his side? Arthur’d always wondered about his friend’s undeserving loyalty. Was it just for the promise of a better future? A sense of duty to Albion?

It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. Merlin was the only person who treated him like someone beyond his title, more than a king, as a friend. He’d never expected anything from him, never tried to use him like anyone else who’d attempted to get close to him. But that wasn’t true now, was it? Merlin had stuck by him because he was the Once and Future King.

“Merlin,” he said, brow furrowed, before realizing his warlock had fallen asleep.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. How could he fall asleep in the chair like that? It was vastly uncomfortable, and with his head at that angle, he was apt to start snoring.

He rolled his eyes as he stood up, thinking to go to bed but making a split second decision to ease Merlin out of the chair and pick him up, one hand on his back and the other under his knees. The physician’s tower was too far, he decided, and set his friend on the far side of his bed.

It wasn’t long before he’d changed into his nightclothes, but he didn’t bother getting under the covers. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep at all; ironic considering all the weight that had suddenly settled down on him. The king leaned back against the headboard and eyed the sleeping form of his manservant. He looked peaceful for once, and Arthur was grateful to no one in particular that he was not troubled by bad dreams on top of everything else.

Without thinking, he started to gently ruffle Merlin’s hair - it was a night of unkingly moments, it seemed - and whispered to him, or to the dark room, “You absolute bumpkin, you complete dollophead. What were you thinking?”


	3. sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur decides on some changes. Merlin helps him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, the tone change. it's like a separate fic  
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

When Merlin awoke he could almost believe he’d went through with it last night after all, because he’d never been so comfortable in his life, and it was entirely possible that he was in the afterlife right now.

As he started to sit up, something slipped off the top of his head, and he glanced behind himself as if to see what it was before realizing that it must have been a hand. That was when he spotted Arthur beside him and nearly startled himself off the bed.

“Gods,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes, aware Arthur was looking at him.

“You fell asleep.”

“I fell asleep in a chair,” Merlin felt the need to defend himself.

Arthur looked amused. “You were snoring.”

“What?!”

“I had to move you. I couldn’t take it.”

He rubbed his eyes again, just so he didn’t have to look at him. “Well. Thanks for not dumping me on the floor.”

After he decided he was able to face Arthur again, he took in his friend’s appearance and spoke his conclusion aloud: “You didn’t sleep.”

“No.”

A rush of guilt descended upon the warlock. “I shouldn’t have burdened you,” he said ruefully. “I know that was a lot last night-”

“I needed to hear it,” Arthur interrupted. He turned to him. “Merlin. No more lies. No more secrets. And none of these ridiculous sacrifices. Understood?”

“Alright,” Merlin said carefully.

“Not ‘alright,’” the king said, agitated. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Gods, Merlin. I thought you were going to do it last night. I thought I was going to lose you. Then what would I have done?”

“Hired a more competent servant?” the warlock suggested.

“I’m being serious! Promise me.”

“I won’t do the spell!” Merlin said, hands flying up in surrender.

“No more self-sacrificing. Promise,” the king said sternly.

“Well - it it’s for the good of Camelot-”

“ _Mer_ lin.”

“I promise,” he huffed.

Arthur fell back on the pillows, sighing heavily. His hands were on his face again, and they muffled his words. “You are the bane of my existence.”

“I’m quite the opposite, if you were paying attention to anything I said last night, thank you very much,” Merlin said testily, which actually got Arthur to laugh. He sat up again.

“So that’s it. That’s your destiny.”

Merlin eyed him, not certain what he was supposed to say. “. . .Yes? What do you mean?”

“That’s why you’re here. Why you’ve been here this whole time.”

Arthur wasn’t going to outright ask, but suddenly, Merlin understood what he wanted to know.

Now the warlock flopped back on the bed. “Maybe in the beginning. Well, at first I didn’t even want anything to do with it.” He grinned up at Arthur. “Thought you were an idiot. And a total prat.”

“Right,” Arthur rolled his eyes.

“But I. . .I don’t know. I mean. Come on Arthur,” he said, shifting uncomfortably despite the fact that he was lying on the King of Camelot’s soft bed, “I care about Albion and Camelot, and I guess the prophecy, too. But I don’t do it because Kilgharrah wouldn’t stop yammering about it, I do it ’cause. . .it’s _you_.”

He shifted around again as he tried to explain. “It’s one thing to believe in some prophecy, but I know you, Arthur.” His eyes flickered upwards, a bit hesitant, but honest. “I believe in _you_.”

Arthur stared at him for a moment, but it was a different intensity than last night, something that made him nervous and hot in a different way. Then Arthur reached down and ruffled his hair before standing. “Get up, Merlin. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Scowling as he patted his hair back down, he sat up and prompted, “By which you’re referring to. . .?”

“Well, we’ve got to figure out how to stop Morgana without you killing yourself. That hasn’t changed, except for the footnote,” the king said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not letting that go, are you?” Merlin harrumphed.

“And now I can finally propose those papers lifting the magic ban I’ve been drawing up,” he mused.

Merlin jerked to standing. “What?” Then, “You’ve _been-?”_

“Then start to find you some suitable clothes and manners. If you’re to be my Court Sorcerer, that is.”

The warlock’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Arthur-” he croaked.

“That was what Kilgharrah wanted, right?” Arthur asked him. “You by my side, as Court Sorcerer?” He blinked and looked away thoughtfully. “Unless he meant something else.”

Merlin was so busy hyperventilating that he almost missed this last bit. “Something else? Like what?”

“Like an advisor?” Arthur’s expression said he was teasing the warlock. “Did you have any other ideas in mind, _Mer_ lin?”

Mimicking Arthur’s unassuming countenance, he shrugged, replying airly. “None at all, sire.”

The king studied him for a long moment before drifting towards his desk, presumably looking for his writings to lift the magic ban - _Arthur was lifting the magic ban_ \- as he pressed, “That satisfies your prophecy, then? It’s everything you’ve ever hoped for?”

“It sounds like you’re implying something, my lord,” he said dryly even as his heart thudded treacherously in his ribcage.

The king briefly rested the papers he’d gathered up back down on the edge of the desk. “I’m implying you’re a coward.”

“A-” Merlin was affronted. “Better a coward than a prat!”

Arthur grinned. “Alright, are you ready?”

“As your Court Sorcerer _and_ Advisor,” Merlin said haughtily, “and perhaps as your manservant as well, I might suggest you put on some proper clothes, _sire_.”

His friend glanced down at his nightshirt.

“Or maybe getting some sleep first? You’re talking in circles.”

Arthur seemed to deflate a little, but the determination on his face remained. He finally let go of his papers and walked back over to Merlin. “Pick out something regal. We’re making history today.”

“Everything you own is regal,” Merlin snorted. “And you need to go back to bed.”

Stopping right in front of him, Arthur frowned. “Just because you’re becoming Court Sorcerer doesn’t mean you get to boss me around, _Mer_ lin.” 

“What about in the other position?”

“Advisor?” Arthur said, unimpressed.

“No, the other one,” Merlin hummed.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, but he was smiling. He tilted his head so that their foreheads were touching, just like the night before. “Who’s talking in circles now, _Mer_ lin?”

Before the warlock could retort, his king was kissing him.

Merlin, beginning to reciprocate eagerly, was still registering the wonderful turn his life had just taken when Arthur pulled back and started pressing hot dripping open mouthed kisses down his neck, pausing barely a quarter beat for, “’S this okay?”

“I like this position,” Merlin said stupidly. As Arthur huffed a laugh, the warlock decided to return the favor, only he was quicker, darting barely-there butterfly kisses from the king’s neck to his jawline before reclaiming his mouth. He met a lot of teeth because a grin was plastered there, and it was odd and silly and lovely at once.

He didn’t realize what Arthur was doing before it was too late and an incredulous “Merlin!” startled him. To his embarrassment, the king’d been hiking up shirt, not only exposing pale skin but the array of scars there. Face flaming, he tried to force the fabric down but Arthur held firm. “Oh gods,” Arthur said, thumbing at the marks, “it’s gonna take us all morning to get through these. “

“No time,” Merlin chirped, managing at last to cover them up when Arthur’s hands moved to his waist. “Remember _sire_ , you’ve several meetings to attend,” Arthur was backing him to the bed as he spoke, “the usual training with the knights, a nap to take, and you haven’t even eaten breakfast yet.” 

As the backs of Merlin’s knees hit the bed, Arthur held him still, growing serious. “I will start on lifting the ban today,” he promised. “But everything else can wait, don’t you think?”

“Well-”

Arthur launched them both forward onto the mattress, back where they’d started the morning. What if that was how all their mornings could start? Waking up together? Merlin couldn't remember wanting anything more for so long, though he’d buried it deep down. Why should he deny himself now, when Arthur finally knew who he truly was?

So when Arthur pushed his shirt up again, and traced a faded white nick above his hipbone, and asked, “What’d you sacrifice this for, you clotpole?” Merlin answered, and waited for his turn to kiss Arthur’s sacrifices, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to keep the boys in character while developing a satisfactory ending: the bane of _my_ existence
> 
> i felt like this dragged on a little, and originally i ended it with "Before the warlock could retort, his king was kissing him." which was sort of sweet and simple but also kind of a low move after the gravity of the first chapter?? so i added a bit. opinions?
> 
> critiques from spelling & grammar to substance are welcome ! always looking to improve


End file.
